


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by shinee4exo



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Chan gets beat up a lot, Chan is a freshman, Chan's parents are bad, Child Abuse, Crying, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of Crying, M/M, Self-Harm, Soonyoung is a senior, Soonyoung just wants to help, Swearing, Violence, it's not really that important though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinee4exo/pseuds/shinee4exo
Summary: "Sometimes, the people who need help the most are the ones who don't even know they're not okay. Let me save you, Chan. Don't make me watch you suffer."He drew himself closer to the wall, hands grasping desperatley at the ripped material of his blood soaked shirt as he listened to Soonyoung's words."But what if I don't want to be saved?"( Or, Chan's parents hurt him, but Chan hurts himself more, and all Soonyoung wants to do is rescue Chan before he's too far lost to be found. )





	

6 rules. Up until now, that's how Chan governed his life. If he followed those 6 simple rules, there would be no reason for him to hurt, no reason for him to suffer.

 

For as long as Chan could remember, pain was love. Every time his dad backhanded him across the cheek, or his mom winded him with a blow to the stomach, it meant that they loved him. To Chan, it made perfect sense. If he was naughty, then he was punished; if he was punished, it meant that his parents loved him enough to attempt to deter him from acting badly.

 

Sometimes though, Chan hated the way that the system worked. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew there were other ways of putting him in his place, and of showing him affection. Maybe when he was younger, back when all punishment meant to him was a smack to the backside or restriction of food, he would accepted his parents’ methods without question.

But now he knew better.

Most kids his age would have their phones taken away, or their right to the TV removed, not their heads smashed against the wooden surface of the coffee table or their hands trodden on until their fingers lost their feeling. He had seen how other students pushed their parents away at the school gates, refusing hugs and wishes of a good day. The closest Chan had ever gotten to that was when him mom patted him on the shoulder as she drove him to his classes for that day after checking to make sure the tendrils of bruises that encircled his neck weren’t visible from under his clothes. For once, her face had seemed void of the annoyance that had made itself a permanent visitor on her features.

Chan’s glee was short lived though, as when he got home hours later, he was met with enraged scowls as his parents surveyed the snow that decorated his jacket. He slept outside in their old rabbit cage that night, surrounded by the bitterly cold snow that froze his bloodied arms and the tears he spilled.

 

In all fairness, Chan felt as though his parents weren’t in the wrong for what they did to him. He was rarely punished unnecessarily. Often, he heard about kids who got slapped around purely for the enjoyment of their parents. Chan pitied them. His parents weren’t like that in the slightest; they hurt him to help remind him to stay out of trouble. They took time out of their busy day to make sure Chan was aware of the consequences that follow rule breaking. If anything that just meant Chan deserved every little injury delivered to him. If only he could behave then maybe, just maybe, his parents wouldn’t find him such a burden. He had no one to blame but himself.

 

“Chan!” The shout forced Chan out of his thoughts, his body instinctively tensing as he heard the oh-so familiar thump of his dad’s boots against the carpeted stairs that opposed his bedroom. As the door was thrown open, and the shadow of his dad’s figure loomed over him, Chan let his eyes fall shut as he awaited his oncoming beating.

 _‘Oh well,’_ he thought solemnly, ‘ _what’s one more punch if it saves me from getting myself stuck in a world of trouble.’_

_\----H-E-L-P----_

 

“Are you _sure_ there’s nothing going on at home, Chan?”

Chan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the woman before him - Mrs Kang, if he remembered correctly - as she tended to his latest set of bruises.

“This is only my second week working at this school.” She sent Chan what was meant to be a look of nonchalance, but her concern was clear. “You’ve visited the medical room four times since. You can tell me if anything is wrong, you know?”

This time, Chan didn’t hold back his scoff at her words as she pressed a cold compress to his swollen wrist.

**_Rule #6 : What happens at home, stays at home._ **

Chan may have pushed his luck on that rule by getting the school nurse to treat his injuries due to a lack of medical knowledge on his own part, but there was no way he would outright break the rule by telling someone, lest a school nurse, about why his arms showed more purple, marred flesh than untouched skin.

 

“Is that okay with you, Chan?”

Focusing his attention back on the lady, Chan nodded his head uncertainly. In hindsight, he should’ve just asked her to repeat the words that had flown over Chan’s head. However, years of being taught that not listening resulted in scars and tears had him hesitating before deciding against it.

“Great!” The nurse displayed an overly warm smile to Chan, but the way her eyes still hovered on the line of neat little cuts amongst Chan’s bruised forearms revealed that her grin was nothing but a front of forced brightness.  “Soonyoung will be here soon. He’ll take care of you.”

 

Chan’s mind instantly filled with dread. So that’s what this was about. He was getting ladled with a babysitter? How pathetic. He didn’t need anyone to follow after him like a lost puppy, he was more than capable of looking after himself. A small blossom of hope arouse in the back of his mind though, the prospect of someone who could become a sort of friend for Chan peeking his interest. However, it was soon clouded over by bitter disappointment. He’d had friends before. As soon as they got bored of the way he had to run home straight after school in a weak bid to hide in his room without bumping into his parents, or they stopped bothering to check on him when he couldn’t make it to school with his mauled legs, they left. Chan was used to it by now. Friends would just never be a concept he would be able to experience. Who would want to be friends with such a badly behaved boy like Chan? He bit his tongue as he trained his gaze on the nurse’s face. Sighing wearily, Chan gathered the little energy he had to return the smile. He’d have to start doing that more often from now on, he supposed.

“I look forward to it.”


End file.
